At the end of my almost daily walk is a place where I pause for a while. There’s a beautiful view through the trees across Campbeltown Loch, past Davaar Island that guards the mouth of the loch, and onwards to the Isle of Arran.

And down below, in front of all of that lies Campbeltown graveyard. A beautiful place to be buried if you get the choice. But also a very good place to contemplate death and all its accoutrements while you are still alive.

I often hear the sound of the gravel underneath the cars that drive slowly along the track around the graveyard while I’m sitting up among the hillside trees. This tongue in cheek, black humoured lyric started coming to me a couple of days ago as I sat and watched.

The Graveyard Crawl

Well the gravel dies
Underneath the tires
As they slowly drive
Along the track

I’m afraid to say
There ain’t a hope in hell
That you’ll be coming back

It’s the graveyard crawl
The graveyard crawl
Comes to us all in the end
The graveyard crawl
The graveyard crawl
I’m so glad you were my friend
Till the very end.

There a hole somewhere
Enough room to spare
They’re gonna put you there
Then fill it in

I’m afraid to say
That heavens above
And you’re not getting in

Chorus: It’s the graveyard crawl etc

You weren’t a bad guy
Maybe not a good guy
But still, we’ll all cry
A little tear

I’m afraid to say
There’s every chance
You’ll still be here next year

It’s the graveyard crawl etc

Well this song goes slow now
Coz I’m about to go now
And you’ll be sad now
All dressed in black

I’m afraid to say
There ain’t a hope in hell
That I’ll be coming back

It’s the graveyard crawl
The graveyard crawl
Comes to us all in the end
The graveyard crawl
The graveyard crawl
And I’m so glad
You were my friend
Till the very end.

The End.